Issho Ni
by Lily
Summary: After a mission, Ken falls sick. Will the snowman melt and help him ? (shounen ai, Aya/Ken) My first WK fic.


I s s h o . N i

** I s s h o . N i**  
_**- t o g e t h e r -**_  
by [ Lily  
  
][1]Warnings : Shounen ai & Ran / Ken  
  
**- * ß * -**

  
It was hard work, being an assassin. We had been trudging through the heavy snows of Northern Japan earlier this week, then being plunged back into the hot summer weather of Honshu in three days. I could handle it, these mad weather changes, but it seems like there is one of my team mates who does fare miserably in colder weather.  
  
I frowned, recalling my coldness that rivaled the white snow around us. We were fending off the guards of our target when they found out we killed their precious boss. I kept ordering him around, snapping at him when he made any mistakes. More than half of his attacks were in vain and he ended up getting wounds enough for all of us. The thing was, although he was always this clumsy guy, he was usually accurate when making a kill.  
  
Maybe I was too harsh on him. Hide as he could, I have very high perception skills and could easily detect that something was wrong with him. Hell, he embodies the spirit of sports within him and to think that he turned down Omi's offer to go ice-skating was surprising. Sufficient enough to make Kudou raise an eyebrow and pester him the whole day.  
  
The tiny shake of his arm was enough. Add frequent head shakes and more clumsiness than usual and anyone can see there is something seriously wrong. He thinks the rest of us are blind, or that he has a good facade. A good enough facade for a straw hut in a cyclonic storm was more likely. And of course, he thinks that I'm just this awful, living snowman who does not give a damn to anything else except earning more yen and yelling Shi-ne to anyone who dares threaten me.  
  
Half true, ne ? Except for the fact that no one knows that all I am doing is for my sister, comatose and silent in a hospital, I am indeed the clean sweeper of the icy personality category. Especially when I have things to hide, I admit that.  
  
Especially when now, I have my emotions to hide. But it is hard to be cold, to not care and to act selfish when he needs help. I will not move, though, Omi or Kudou will tend to him. They will, sooner or later.  
  
Poor Ken, it might be tomorrow morning before he is found out. All because I am a stubborn ass.  


- ß -  


I will not go on a mission involving huge amounts of snow on me, ever again. I solemnly swear that to myself. Not that it was much use. I had been under pounds of snow yesterday, under this kind of igloo like thing that our genius Omi had cooked up, or frozen up, in this case.  
  
Some kind of shelter. Mine fell on me. The others stood upright and tall, and I think they could last until the next winter. Not mine, though. Maybe every possession of mine, or anything that has any relation to me that I can call mine is as clumsy as me. Aya just told me to stay there and not to move until it is time to attack. The enemy might detect movement from our side and launch one before we are ready. Easy for him to say, he was not the one under the heavy wet snow and he has that warm, warm trench coat. Baka. Not to mention he is from the same family where all snowflakes come from. That hurt, Aya. You acted like I do not matter at all, to anyone.  
  
We have arrived back home from that frozen torture around late evening and I gladly trudged up back to my room. Sleep was beckoning me and I am exhausted. In record time I finished one hot shower, unpacked my bags and got to bed. From the silence around our living quarters above Koneko, it seems like the others were doing the same.  
  
I tumbled into bed, dizzily seeing waltzing stars and feeling absolutely horrible.  


- ß -  


He groans in his sleep. I can hear him through the thin walls separating our side-by-side rooms. The irksome forever right voice in my head starts scolding me for being so stubborn. It was on and off; he has been like that since ten. Raising my head, I glanced at my alarm clock. Its glowing hands told me that it was one in the morning.  
  
Now it is my turn to groan as I fall back onto my pillows. I am indeed very mulish. Too much for my own liking sometimes. Conscience took a hard hold on me, giving me a mighty good shake and I gave up hoping that the genki Omi would hear Ken and go see him. No such luck. We were all wiped out after the mission.  
  
I am sorely tempted to give myself one of my awful respect-inspiring glares through the mirror to try talk myself out of opening my door and going to his room. Somehow, it meant opening myself to him. I do not know if it is a wise thing to do. Yet, my feet took me of their own accord to stand in front of his door. I stared at the brown wood in defeat.  
  
Sighing, I tried turning the doorknob, half hoping that it is locked. It was not. That heightened my suspicion even more. All of us locked our doors every night. Either it was to try to live a different type of life behind the doors, or just as an acknowledgement of personal space. Ken must have been too tired to remember.  
  
Feeling apprehensive, I stepped gingerly into his room - one of the few rare times I'm in it - and was greeted by a soft yellow glow from the nightlight. So, Ken sleeps with a nightlight near his desk. He is afraid of being in the dark alone. Another new discovery for me that confirms my observation of him all the while. He fares badly when alone on night missions.   
  
His figure is a dark lump, twisted between the bedcovers and sheets, his breathing hard and harsh. I moved closer, dreading what I would find, wondering what I could do. The blue pillows beneath his head are wet with perspiration, forehead covered with glistening beads. To my anxiety, I noticed that his usually tanned face is pale and contorted in pain.  
  
I sat on his bed beside him, urging control within myself to not try to do anything drastic that I might regret. Whipping out the thermometer I took with me earlier, I popped it into his mouth and waited patiently. And of course I did something my brain could not control. On instinct, I reached out to brush away his soft chestnut bangs, damp with sweat and whispered unintelligent things, wishing that he was not in pain.  
  
He stirred a little, whimpering in discomfort. I felt awfully guilty of ignoring his condition earlier. Several beeps brought me back to reality, jolting me. Squinting, I read the digital figures that proclaimed his temperature at thirty-nine Celsius. That was a bit too high for comfort. I have to do something.  


- ß -  


Something cold was against my face. I could not be feeling cold in my nightmare of being crushed under snow, that was rather far-fetched. I was awaken, and immediately felt absolutely terrible. With mighty effort, I cracked open my heavy eyelids, only to get a blur of shapes dancing before me.  
  
The cold something must be a piece of cloth, judging from the rough woven texture. Who is trying to play a horrible joke on me ? I swiped my hand blindly, eliciting a cry of surprise when it connected with someone.  
  
"Stay still," a male voice commanded me, placing my straying arm back on the bed.  
  
"Who's there ?"  
  
There was a silence, an unnerving silence as I struggle to focus my vision and thoughts against the massive headache that was currently hounding me. I knew it was not a member of the enemy, nor of a stranger. My hazy mind refuses to give me an answer of his identity.  
  
"It's me, Aya."  
  
Everything clicks into place. The voice, the reddish hair and the long slender fingers all were his. It had to be him, out of all people. I am shocked that Aya could be here, yet pleasantly pleased. One cannot win everything. What is he doing here in my room during the ungodly hours of the day stumps me.  
  
"Why are you here ?"  
  
"You're sick."  
  
"I'm not sick."  
  
He grunted, knowing fully well that I was trying one of my heroics. "You're sick."  
  
I gave up. One does not tangle with Aya's no nonsense voice. Either do it, or get a taste of what it is like of being at the point of his very sharp and polished katana.  
  
"I know. I feel awful." I told him, astonishing myself at my daringness, gripping his arm as a wave of cramping nausea passes through me.  


- ß -  


Maybe I could be grinning. I should be grinning. But I can't, even though I badly want to. It was funny how something as absurd as Ken gripping my arm in search for strength could make me so happy. A agonizing frown marred his features as his fingers clamped down hard my arm. He is really sick.  
  
"I need to..." he chokes. "Toilet."  
  
I nod, even though I know he cannot figure out much in his current eyesight. He tries to raise himself up to move and failed miserably as he flops back weakly.   
  
"Let me help."  
  
He muttered a feeble thanks, coughing as I pulled him slowly to a standing position. It must have been upsetting to him as he instantly doubled up, clutching his stomach. I would have bodily lifted him to the toilet there and then, to save him of further suffering, but he is rather heavy and lifting him would make things worse.  
  
We made a slow pace towards the toilet, his feverish body propped against mine. Once there, he proceeded to retch out violently. There was nothing I could do, nothing except to watch him turn paler and to soothe his shivering back.  
  
After what seemed like a very long time, he sat back on the cold tile floor, bloodshot eyes bemused. I cleaned him up with a wadful of tissues, before placing a toothbrush in his hand. He stared at the plastic in his grasp, looking at it perplexedly, too out of it to do anything. I brushed his teeth for him, taking great care that he did not get wet. Brushing teeth for someone else is really different from brushing your own. Somehow, that filled me with a weird emotion I could not decipher. I felt that I was finally doing something right.  
  
Back to the room we went, where he collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, tired and weak. Glancing at his drenched shirt, I pulled it off him, and replaced it with a fresh top I found in his drawer, gaze painfully lingering on the numerous bruises that was sprinkled liberally across his body. Guilt pouring over me at my ignorance during the mission. After pulling up the sheets over his trembling figure, I silently tread out of the room.  


- ß -  


It was horrendous. I feel useless and pathethic. Here I am a grown person, eighteen years old and still hopelessly incompetent. I just had to be sick with Aya around, what kind of dumb joke is that ? And then, I had to be immobile and dense, only observing him as he cleaned up after me.   
  
He had to clean up the mess ** I** made.   
  
If that does not humiliate me enough, I cannot think of anything else.   
  
The soft click of the door tells me that he had left. I am relieved that he is gone. I could not possibly face him properly in the future. How can I ? But I also know I cannot go on without seeing him or talking to him. What would he think of me now ?   
  
In shame, I buried myself deeper into my pillow, my sore aches protesting the actions. I felt completely like the world's worst idiot. I could not contain myself, I could not take care of myself, and of all people he had to be the one who came. He should had left me alone. Without trying, he had made me fall for him, and now with trying, it is even worst. Images of him danced in my head, mocking me and my vain obsession. Crimson hair framing the striking lavender eyes that looked at me with contempt.  
  
How can I worship a person like him ? This is all wrong. Totally wrong. He is a guy, I am a guy. Things like that could not work out, they never. I should not have listened to my heart, listening to it too much hurts.  
  
"Ken ?" His voice cuts through the room, an anxious question.  
  
It could not be him. He would not come back, he never did. Not once. I must be suffering from serious hallucination to even hear him speak. I squeezed my eyes shut. I want to crawl into some deep hole and stay there.  


- ß -  


The boy seriously worries me. Of all the time I knew him, he never once got sick. Kudou had his share of unpleasant hangovers, Omi his share of high fevers, even I had my piece of the ailing pie. Ken never once got sick. Must be credited to his active lifestyle. Sometimes I wonder how is it like to be him, to be one born and blessed by the sun. The problem here now was that Ken had indeed got sick. Not a good thing.  
  
Done in the kitchen, I almost tackled the stairs two steps at a time. If I did I would surely have spilt everything. Funny, how I could not bear to leave him alone for five minutes or even for ten. I would have to have my brain checked after this is over. There has to be a plausible answer to why I am urging myself to go faster just to see him, and I do not run unless when I am on a mission.  
  
I entered the room, noticing it was pretty much the same as I left it. The nightlight was still glowing the warm yellow glow, but there was something not so right about the bed, or more like the figure in bed.  
  
He was shaking, head burried into the pillows, soft distressed sounds coming from between them. Did everything took a turn for the worst in the short time I went down ? I should have known better than to even leave him alone. I called out his name, surprised at how anxious I sounded. His only response was to burrow himself harder into the bedding.  
  
Feeling that something had indeed gone wrong, I hastily set down everything I was holding onto the bedside table. Somehow, I am unsure, almost afraid. Everything I had done today was born from a fit of impulse. Or was it not ?  
  
I took hold of his heaving shoulders gently, pulling him up and turning him over to a sitting position. He did struggle, tensing up in surprise at my sudden actions. He stared up at me as I flipped him over, blinking at my presence. It was then I was taken aback, feeling every emotion rushing to catch up with me. Shock, alarm, grief and undecipherable ones surfaced by the bundle. Feeling tears stinging the back of my eyes after so many years.  
  
He was crying.  


- ß -  


Why are you doing this Aya ? Why are you here ?  
  
Are you here to mock me ? Have you not done that enough.  
  
Why do you have to see me like this ?  
  
I don't understand Aya, the way things are the way they are. Life is cruel, it is not enough that I should suffer from this, but you had to come and make it worst.  
  
Yet, I do not hate you for this.   
  
But I don't know why, I don't know why. I have no answer, even though I have searched for one all this time. The answer still eludes me.  
  
Why do I have to ** love** you ?  


- ß -  


Neither of us moved, just staring at each other in the dim light of the room. I can see the glistening tears sliding down his cheeks, his expression changing from surprise to hurt to miserable. He buried his face in his arms, bitter sobs breaking to the surface.   
  
"G-Gomen ne, Aya."  
  
Again, rendered speechless for the night, I looked at him dumbly, silently willing him to explain his reason for apologizing. Why did he ? Tentatively, I moved to sit beside him, noticing with dismay that he at once went rigid.  
  
"Doushite, Ken ? Doushite gomen ?"  
  
"Gomen ne."  
  
I sighed, this was getting nowhere and the constricting feeling in my chest is not helping either. Moving swiftly, I tugged his shielding arms away and tilting his chin up, to exposed his tear-stained face.   
  
"Doushite ?"  
  
He looked at me, a lost child, lost and confused. I swear I could drown in those clear brown eyes. I was baffledly disappointed when he wrenched his gaze away from me, seeking shelter beneath his floppy fringe.  
  
"Gomen ne," he gestured a shaking hand. "For all this."  
  
"Ken, why do you have to be sorry ?"  
  
He mumbled incoherently, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Strain as I could, I could not catch a single word.  
  
"Nani ?"  
  
Straightening up stiffly, coughing, he looked at me with unseeing eyes. "I am useless," he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing to say.  
  
I blinked, surprised at his train of thoughts. Always unselfish, always self-reliant. Too often stubborn to accept help from others, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. Youthful naivety attractive.  
  
"You think so ?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"I don't."  
  
He looks dumbfounded, bewildered by my willingness in expressing opinions. The dazed look is then replaced by one of his usual obstinate protests. "I am."  
  
I shook my head. "Stop being stubborn, Ken. You're not useless at all. You're one of us, one of Weiss. Without you, Weiss is not complete. We could not do without you." I explained. Then, as an afterthought, added. "I know I could not."  
  
Again, surprise flitted across his features, reddish tint darkening on his already flushed face. Hopeful eyes peered from beneath the chestnut curtain of hair. "Hontou ni ?"  
  
"Hai." I smiled, a rarity itself. He reminds me of Aya-chan, full of hope. Unjaded.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut, tired, lips curving into a watery smile. "Arigatou, Aya-kun."  


- ß -  


Maybe this was an answer to my question. Why I had fallen without knowing. The cold and passive Aya could actually be so different.  
  
Something wet was pushed towards my lips. I opened my eyes to find him hovering above me, bowl in one hand, spoon in another. He smiled, handing the bowl to me.   
  
"Take some."  
  
I nodded, sniffing the misty steam rising from the broth. It smells delicious. I am glad that my bangs are long, as I am able peep at him from beneath them. But, I must have used this trick a bit too much because he bend down, swept them away and chuckled. A soft sound of amusement that filled me with exhilaration.  
  
"Its chicken soup." He grinned. "Perfectly safe and not poisonous."  
  
I blushed, feeling absolutely sheepish, nose bumping into the bowl as I lifted it for a sip. Eyes grew wide at the tastiness. I finished the soup before looking at him again, his expression expectant.  
  
"Yum !" I managed a slight grin.   
  
He positively beamed, pleased, taking away the empty bowl from my hands. Rummaging on the bedside table, he extracted two pills and a glass of water. Grimacing, I made a face. I detest taking medication.  


- ß -  


So he could not even stand the sight of pills. Two small white capsules and he is pulling this long, pleading face that was highly comical.  
  
"Aw, come on. You mean you don't like the stuff ?"  
  
"No, of course not." Obstinate shake of head.  
  
"Two won't hurt you." I coaxed.  
  
"They will."   
  
"Will not."  
  
"Will." He pouted adorably.  
  
"Kenken." I sighed, amazed at his unpolluted childishness. "They will not hurt you. They will only make you feel better."  
  
He opened his mouth to reply, yet the retort hung unsaid, cinnamon eyes large with astonishment. I clammed my mouth shut. Me and my loosened self just will not stop talking or even smiling. I just gave him a nickname, a rather cute one at that, simple and straightforward, which was good. The bad thing was, I blurted it out.  
  
He was thinking, wondering at my unusual actions. I could see that he is terribly confused at why I suddenly melted. I am surprised at myself, but I have no answer, except that all I did was by instinct and by an unquenchable urge.  
  
"Aya-kun ?" Soft, hesitant and vulnerable. A question dangled in the air, afraid to be voiced out.  
  
"Nani ?"  
  
"Ne, Aya-kun. Er, d-dou..." Slender fingers grasped onto the blue bed sheets, fidgeting nervously. Embarrassed head buried into sleeves. "Why are you doing all this ?"  
  
I hung my head, speechless, an admission to myself. Bottling up everything was taking too much of me away. Too much of me had died. I cannot let that happen, I could not afford to pay the price. Until this childish, medicine-hating, fierce little Siberian kitten came along and stirred up my long forgotten half, I was doomed.  
  
I sat beside him, feeling him trembling, either from exertion or nervousness, I could not pinpoint. An urgent atmosphere surrounded us, tense in the dark room. I knew I had to say something, yet I am at a loss for words. This was a new experience, I could feel that I am actually crossing over to a new threshold, a different future.  
  
"Ken."  
  
"Hai ?" He looked up, emotions tiptoeing on tether hooks.  
  
I heaved in a lungful of air, uncommonly jittery. "I'm doing all this, not because you're Weiss, not because you're a part of the team, not because you're my housemate."  
  
Pausing, I glanced at him, his face looked ready to crumple. Did I say the wrong thing ? I do not know how to get my message across. Years of grunts and short replies must have really taken my language skills away. Maybe I should not say anything more and revert back to my silent self. I would not forgive myself if I did anything that would hurt Ken.  
  
"Does this mean that you're doing this," he began, voice low and meek, gradually subduing to a hoarse whisper. "To mock me ? To tell me how pathethic I am ?"  
  
I suddenly felt like a flabbergasted beached whale. A blubbering blue beached whale. If I could have laughed, I would. If I could have cried, I would. Yet, all that emerged from me was a squeak, followed by some guttural noises that could only be classified as a cross between a chortle and a sob.  
  
I leaned towards him, feeling a weird satisfaction as his brown eyes widened in bewilderment, staring into mine with countless unanswered questions.  
  
"I'm doing all this," Tipping his chin up, level with my violet gaze. "Because I ** care** for you. A lot."  
  
He nodded dumbly, doe eyes shifting from side to side, immobile. Tense and doubtful.  
  
"You don't believe me ?"  
  
Dry red lips moved, noiseless. Admission was hard. How does one believe a person that never cared for anyone ? A person that never betrayed a thought or feeling.  
  
"I care, Ken. Maybe more that I'll ever admit."  
  
And to emphasize my poorly made point, I planted a gentle kiss on his feverish forehead. Lingering longer that I should have, inhaling the breezy citrus scent of his soft hair. Mindful that I would never have this chance again as I held him close. He tensed, confounded, then slowly relaxing, slumping fragilely into the awkward embrace.  
  
"Aya ?"  
  
"Hmm ?" I murmured into his hair, watching the chestnut locks fluttering at my breath. Pleasantly intrigued that he did not push me away.  
  
"I... I didn't know you cared." He pushed closer, hiding between the folds of my shirt. I could feel him breaking into a smile. "**Suki da.**"  
  
My face broke into a spontaneous grin, full and wide, my first in many seasons. Sweet muffled timid confession. I shifted my position to a better one, allowing him to fall against me fully, hugging him tight.  
  
"I think I do too." Grinning, yet cursing myself inwardly at my incompetent-ness to tell him the same thing.   
  
He sighed contentedly, sagging thoroughly into me. Again and again he surprised me. This was enough for him ? I could never be like him, no matter how I tried. Positive and believing. I knew he would wait, until the day I could finally tell him the same thing.  
  
We sat like that for a while, luxuriating in the new found knowledge and experience, until I caught sight of the forgotten pills on the table. I poked him playfully.  
  
"Kenken, you're not escaping from taking those pills you know."  
  
"Nooo..." he groaned gloomily.  
  
"Be good. It'll be over in a flash."  
  
Muttering some blasphemies at the medical world, he obediently stretched out his hand for the capsules and gulped them down, cringing at the taste.  
  
"Happy ?"  
  
"Much." I laughed, taking the glass from him. He nodded, satisfied and fell back into the hug, snuggling up to me as if I am an oversized teddy bear.  
  
"Ne, Aya, you know what ? You look so much better when you smile."  
  
"Then I'll smile more for you."  
  
"Arigatou." Gentle murmurings.  
  
"How are you feeling ?"  
  
"Better. I'm glad you came."  
  
"Aa, me too." I admitted.  
  
Silence surrounded us, comfortable and warm. I stroked his hair absent-mindedly, the other arm around him, just happy to be there. He fiddled the chain that hung on my neck, fingers twiddling the little white cross, eyes heavy lidded with tiredness.  
  
"Sleep, Kenken. You're tired."  
  
"Aa." He decided, scrunching up his features adorably. "You'll be here ?"  
  
"Hai. Of course." I patted his shoulders. Where else could I be but here ?  
  
"Mmm... Oyasumi." He mumbled, tired head falling limply to the side.  
  
"Oyasumi."  
  
I smiled for the umpteenth time that night, feeling absolutely lucky and happy. Worries on my mind far away and minuscule. Sudden movement startled me as he wriggled drowsily, peeking up an enquiring eye at me. Fretfully biting his lips.  
  
"Hai ? Not sleeping yet ?"  
  
"Iie." Curious head cocked onto one side, bumping into my chest. Hesitant question. "Watashi-tachi, issho ni desu ka ?"  
  
Eyes boring deeply into mine, bravely, not flinching like countless times before. I pulled him closer, wondering how would I be able to go on without him in the future, marveling at the swift change in me.  
  
"Hai. Watashi-tachi issho ni desu." Another kiss, gentle and soothing on his forehead, wanting him forever to be in my arms. "**Issho ni.**"  
  


**4577 words  
Thurs July 12 - Thurs July 19 2001**

**- * ß * - **

**Lily : ** Finished, at last ! *_stretches_* I can't believe it.**  
Lola : ** Now, that took you long enough.**  
Ken : **Yeah, at least I got Ayan. *_hugs Aya_***  
Lily : ** Gomen ne ! I was drawing a doujin for Blood Jade !**  
Lola : ** Hontou ni ? Lemme see them. *_grabs the paper_***  
Aya : **Not a doujin about us ? *_rummages in his cupboard_***  
Lola : **What ? Only two measly pages ?**   
Lily : **Gomen ne !**  
Aya : ***_brandishes katana_*** **Shi-ne ! I want a doujin of Kenken ! 

**- * ß * -**

**Notes :** My first Weiss fic to be finished ever ! I'm excited and of course, nervous. *coughs* What do you guys think ? Is it okay ? Passes the test ? If there's any errors whatsoever, please forgive me. I've never seen any Weiss stuff, not the anime, the book or others, only sites, doujins and fics. Comments onegai. Email or ICQ me. All comments wanted, even flames *sigh*  
  
**Dictionary** : I know only a little nihongo, and then love to butcher it around. Bear it with me. Here are the words used in the fic. 

**issho ni**
together
**hontou ni**
really

**doushite**
why
**gomen (ne)**
sorry

**suki da**
I like you
**ne**
hey/right ?

**nani**
what
**arigatou**
thank you

**oyasumi**
good night
**hai**
yes

**watashi-tachi issho ni desu ka ?**
are we together ?

**watashi-tachi issho ni desu**
we are together

  
  
**Credits :** Lo-chan ! Thanks for betaing this fic ! And not to mention every other thing ~! *glomps* Doumo arigatou ! And tiny bits goes out to Daniel-kun, Jyu-kun and Nichi-kun for being the guys they are and not running away from a shounen ai fic. 

**Name** : Lily  
**Email** : [lily@sushi.co.jp][1]  
**ICQ** : 19112563  
**Url** : [http://www.riyume.f2s.com][2]   


**- * ß * -**

   [1]: mailto:lily@sushi.co.jp
   [2]: http://www.riyume.f2s.com



End file.
